


a sprace headcanon

by The_Pan_With_A_Plan



Series: Nettle writes headcanons [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, Gay Newsies, Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Race gets kinda drunk, Strangers to Lovers, but not smashed don't worry, but they don't so don't worry, newsies headcanons, oh my god they were roomates, they almost crash the car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-13 21:04:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Pan_With_A_Plan/pseuds/The_Pan_With_A_Plan
Summary: I did this as a request on Tumblr. follow me @and-i-lostmy-shoe





	a sprace headcanon

    * For both boys, it was the first year of college
    * Spot Conlon was super high strung over it, like a rubber band stretched too far
    * Racetrack Higgins was super excited, it was gonna be a blast
    * It was the day they moved in that they met.
    * Spot had arrived as early as possible, and he was a little bundle of nerves
    * He set straight away to unpacking
    * Race arrived around dinner time
    * He arrived so late, Spot was starting to wonder if he was ever going to come.
    * He had already lost his key, so he rang the doorbell
    * Then he leaned against the door and took a sip of his coke.
    * Spot pulled the door open, and race fell right on him, knocking him to the floor
    * His coke fell out of his hands, spilling all over the cream colored carpet.
    * Spot sat up, pushed race off his lap, and glared at him.
    * Race flushed. ~~It was kinda cute.~~ “Wrong spot I guess” he mumbled, by way of explanation
    * “Huh?”
    * He had meant wrong spot to lean.
    * But Spot thought he was talking about him.
    * Race drove Spot crazy.
    * He was up watching tv at 3 A.M., he played music a lot, he lost his keys, he left clutter everywhere, he was always spilling things, and he went to parties and got wasted.
    * But he cooked and always left Spot half in a tupperware, he knew how to fold laundry fast and he would do it, once Spot forgot his coat and Race lent him an oversized sweatshirt ~~that smelled like him~~ , and he would help Spot edit his papers (Race was strangely good at that), ~~and it was really nice when he smiled.~~
    * Race found it hilarious that when he would flirt with Spot, Spot would get all flustered, and maybe even a little.. happy?
    * Spot liked it, but he ~~wished~~ thought Race was ~~n’t~~ mocking gays. ~~He was scared. Did Race know? how?~~
    * But as time went on, Race found himself _meaning_ the flirting.
    * Fast forward a month
    * Spot totally ~~has~~ does NOT have a ~~huge~~ crush on Race
    * Race has a huge crush on Spot
    * And things have started to change, warm up, between them.
    * Spot started to join Race to watch tv at 3 A.M. on saturday (though Race did it any time of the week). Race got a tupperware with an octopus on it and wrote Spot’s name on it, to reserve food in case of company (“why the octopus?” “Cuz it looked cool.” “you dork.”). Spot got Race bins to keep his clutter in. Race let Spot “borrow” one of his hoodies for an indefinite amount of time. And Spot would **always** bring Race home from parties to keep him from getting hurt.
    * On one such occasion, Race was not completely shit-faced, just drunk enough to do what he was about to do
    * He was sitting in Spot’s passenger seat as they drove back to the apartment.
    * They were sitting in a comfortable silence when Race piped up
    * “Spot?”
    * “Yeah?”
    * “I love you.”
    * Race, drunk as he was, didn’t notice when Spot gripped the wheel a little harder, pain flashing across his expression for an instance
    * _it’s just platonic, you fuckwad. He never has any problem expressing platonic affection with his friends. This is nothing different,_ Spot thought to himself
    * “Me too, bud. You’re one of my ~~only~~ best friends.”
    * Race snorted. “No, dumbass. I mean I _love_ you.”
    * Spot nearly crashed the car, and he hit his temple against the window while Race's entire drunken body flew forward and his forehead hit the dashboard
    * thankfully, Spot had insisted Race wear his seatbelt
    * He regained control of the car and stared ahead
    * “You’re drunk.”
    * “So?”
    * “It’s the alcohol talking.”
    * “No, it’s my face.”
    * “You don’t actually feel that way.”
    * “Beer reveals the heart’s hidden desires better than any fake psychic.”
    * “You wouldn’t say it if you were sober.”
    * “Wanna bet on it?”
    * “No. You’re not allowed to bet on anything after that time you lost our television to Albert.”
    * “Not even for my retro star wars shirt?”
    * Shit. he _really_ wanted that shirt. It was cool and ~~soft and smelled like Race.~~
    * “I’m not going to take advantage of you while you’re drunk, Race.”
    * Race was mostly asleep by the time they got home
    * So Spot helped him in to his bedroom
    * Race clocked out as soon as he hit the bed
    * And Spot just stood there in the doorframe, staring at him lovesick.
    * He couldn’t sleep that night. He laid awake and stared at the ceiling.
    * The next morning, Spot was sitting at the kitchen table, a large bruise on his temple,dark circles under his eyes, and nursing a cup of coffee
    * Race shuffled in with a smile, but he was holding his head and wincing.
    * _“He’ll have forgotten.”_ Spot thought gloomily, _“he’ll have forgotten and i’ll go back to pining.”_ as Race got a bottle of gatorade out of the pantry and poured it some into a glass.
    * “So. about last night.” Race started as he got a bendy straw out of the utensil drawer.
    * “ _Shit. this is even worse. He’s going to say that he didn’t mean it, that we’re nothing more than friends, and i’m going to have to work through the heartbreak without even being able to show it”_
    * Race continued “you’re going to regret not taking that wager” and kissed Spot’s bruise



**Author's Note:**

> I did this as a request on Tumblr. follow me @and-i-lostmy-shoe


End file.
